5 Heart-Ripping Testimonials Of How It Feels To Be Suicidal
Source: Thought Catalog

1. I wake up everyday with this gnawing feeling.You try to push it away, but it gets worse

I understand. I mean, I wake up every day with this gnawing feeling. You try to push it away, but it gets worse. It doesn’t stop. This feeling. It hurts. It stings. All the heartache, the stress…it gets to you. So if anyone thinks suicidal people are stupid, please realize that when you are holding the knife or pills like me, that it’s not easy to put them down.

I can’t tell you how many times I almost killed myself. 100? 200?

But all I ask, is that you understand. Depression and suicide aren’t like diseases. They don’t go away after time.

They are deep depths of darkness, and loneliness. Depression is like a boulder of weight always on your back. Slowly hurting you. Day by day until you say “Enough!” And it says “No.”

It doesn’t stop unless you make it.

Suicide isn’t about killing yourself. It’s about starting new, a clean slate. To forgot your troubles, and finally drop the boulder.

Some of us took the leap. I really do envy them.

Please just understand that we aren’t trying to be “selfish” or “hurtful.” We just want that boulder to stop hurting us.

We just want to love happily.

2. It’s hard to go through life when your own brain has turned against you

I understand that feeling of utter hopelessness that can so easily consume a life. I’ve suffered from depression on and off for most of my life. My mother suffers from bipolar disorder. As a result, both of us have struggled with suicidal tendencies. It’s hard to go through life when your own brain has turned against you. Getting out of bed is a struggle. Taking a shower is a struggle. Looking in the mirror is a struggle. Ah, I wish I didn’t understand. Honestly, for a long time I thought that suicide was the nicest thing I could do for myself. I knew it was selfish to put my loved ones through, but at the same time it was so goddamn difficult to stay alive just for the well-being of others. I could easily rationalize it and say that they were better off without me. God, depression is a bitch. It has taken so much intense therapy and self-reflection and, yes, even medication for me to realize that giving myself a chance to heal was the kindest thing I could do for myself. So I guess I’m trying to say that I empathize with suicide victims. When your own mind betrays you it’s hard to get back up again.

3. I didn’t want anything to get better, I just wanted it to stop getting worse

I was suicidal for a while just over a year ago. I hate that stupid fucking cardboard sign that says “Suicide doesn’t end the chances of things getting worse, it ends the chances of things getting better.” Go fuck yourself. Suicide absolutely ends the chances of things getting worse. When I was suicidal, it was because every single day was literally the worst day of my life. Each day was worse than the day before it, spiraling completely out of control downward, and most often it wasn’t even my fault. Every day was just shittier than the last. I didn’t want anything to get better, I just wanted it to stop getting worse. People always look at suicides and they’re like “oh that’s so selfish to do to his family.” Oh yes, how selfish that they decided to stop living in the worst hell you’ve never even imagined. I’m not condoning suicide for a second. Obviously I’m still here and things have gotten mostly better. But it bugs me when people say “it’ll get better” or “it’s cowardly.” The only reason I’m still here, literally the only reason, is because I didn’t have the courage to do it. So it’s definitely not cowardly. And as I said earlier, when you’re suicidal you don’t give two shits about it “getting better.” You just want it to stop getting worse.

4. The torment in my head became too much to bear

I hate people who judge suicide victims. I have tried to kill myself before. I suffer from extreme depression. The torment in my head became too much to bear. I felt hopeless. I felt valueless, and there was so much pain in my life. Joy too, but it was short-lived and the pain was persistent. I finally walked down to a local theater one day, went backstage, threw a rope over the rafters, and hung myself. Funny thing, the rope snapped and I didn’t have enough to try again. I didn’t want to abandon my family. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted my pain to stop.

5. It’s as scary as hell

Every day that you think about killing yourself, the numbers are something other than alive: 100, dead: 0. Every day that you fight and drag yourself up by the pant cuffs, the numbers were always 50 for ending it and half an opportunity and the fight is done, life lost.

It’s as scary as hell. It used to take me 20 or 30 to notice I was down before I even threw my hat into the ring and started fighting. Thankfully with some training and medication I now notice it at maybe 5 or 10, the fight is so much easier but it takes constant vigilance.